“Life is a daring adventure, or nothing.”

In a recent online conversation with Matt, he reminded about storytelling, and how it becomes a part of our personal story. Things that happen to us, get translated into stories we tell ourselves and others, and then they shape us. I first wrote this story, probably ten years of years ago.

“Life is a daring adventure, or nothing.”

So said Helen Keller, and I was about to prove it! This was it. I had built this little airplane and now had to fly it. No more excuses.

Looking through the spinning propeller of my un-flown, home built airplane, I contemplated the thousand metre runway lined up ahead. I was ready for takeoff. After two years of building, there was nothing to do but push down the throttle and fly, except maybe say a prayer: Please God, let me have tightened all the bolts and read the plans right!

I gripped the control stick in my sweaty hand, and rehearsed again: ‘Stick full back, release brakes, full throttle, stick forward, tail up, steer straight down the runway with the my feet on the rudder pedals until she lifts herself off, then climb out and watch the airspeed’... Right? I hope so.

It was time to fly. Okay, here we go! Stick back, release the brakes, full throttle (holy smokes, this thing accelerates fast), start forward pressure on stick ...... LIFTOFF!  ALREADY? In three seconds I was off the runway and pitched back in my seat as the airplane climbed out at a thirty degree angle. All I could see ahead was clear blue sky. I was too afraid to look back. I had never expected my harmless looking little airplane it to fly with such, well, enthusiasm! Like an unlikely rider on the back of a homesick angel, I hung on tight.

I thrilled at how she was handling, and was equally glad for the borrowed parachute strapped to my back. Eventually, I found the courage to steal a look at the sight of the airport shrinking below.  I gasped. It was gorgeous. Flying in an open cockpit for the first time in my life, I gushed over how clear and green the world looked without cockpit glass. I did a quick check of the instruments: A-Okay, I thought, but everything is happening more quickly than I had expected. Guess, I might just as well relax and enjoy the ride. Before I passed over the runway threshold, I was 300 metres feet above ground level.

I pushed the stick forward and throttled back into cruise attitude. I did some gentle turns. I stuck out my left arm to the feel the wind in the propeller blast and the airplane, all by itself, started a turn to the left! I stuck out my right arm and she turned to the right. More than just responsive, I thought. I let go of the controls and put both arms straight up out of the cockpit over my head in the wind stream. The airplane started a gentle decent. Perfect. I looked around at the mountains around me, the great Fraser River below, felt the sun and wind on my face and took in the open sky around and above. This is fantastic, I thought, a little scary, I admit, but fantastic. I took a big breath and thought to myself with a big smile, I think I am going to like this.”

This airplane was a ‘dream-come-true’ for me. I went on to fly it about 400 hours before I sold it. I had an engine failure, a minor crash landing, built floats for it, flew it cross country, cruised farmers’ fields and mountain tops, but nothing stands out in this “story” more than the first flight. I see there are many dreams we can seek out in our lives, whatever they are for each of us. And I see now how fulfilling one dream only leads to the next. “Now that I have done this, what else shall I try that I never before imaged was within my grasp?” The adventure of chasing our dreams changes us. We grow and learn. We become more of who we are. We find the things we dream about point to our gifts. And, one by one, as we bring our gifts into the world in our quest to fulfill our dreams, we find fulfillment and happiness. Our quest never ends, but our gains along the way buoy us. The world becomes bigger and smaller at the same time. Now all things are possible, limited only by the time we have to stride alive in the magic kingdom.

But of course, the question is how! All of us are prepared by childhood and our adult world to do what-we-are-supposed-to-do. Most of us must break free somehow, to seek our dreams. So how do we get to the head of the runway, metaphorically speaking, ready to take off for our dreams in the first place? This is a question I never tire of asking other dreamers – What have you done to get here with your dreams? And I get as many answers as people answering, but I do see some common themes in their stories.

For my part, I think the hardest part is getting to the point where we are capable of making the choice to set out in the first place. It was a big job building the airplane, for example, going from idea to flyable airplane. But once I and the airplane were ready, flying it, was easy, and fun too, though sometimes scary. So, I say, we get started by ‘building’ ourselves. We ‘are’ the airplane for flying into our life’s dreams.

“But that’s too obvious”, I can imagine some of you protesting, “We all know it’s about developing ourselves”. And it is obvious. But the problem is this; what passes for common sense in our world today has us developing too many things that hinder us and not enough of the things that help us make the choice to go for it! Or as the recently deceased Stephen Covey once said, we are climbing a ladder alright, but it’s leaning against the wrong wall!

How do we find our “right wall for our ladder, and then, how do we prepare ourselves to make the choice to climb it in the face of all the things we are otherwise “supposed-to-do”?

Questions, questions, questions!

Meanwhile, one of my next projects is to build and fly an airplane with a group of 15, or so, young Singaporeans in 2013. If you want to contribute in any way - with sponsorship, building space, $, participants -  whatever -  jump in!

Here is the advertisement:

Attention: Project 7Cs Take Flight is looking for 15 people to build and fly an airplane together as a team in 2013. No experience is necessary; just a determination to do extraordinary things for extraordinary results. For more details visit: www.sail7Cs.com/7cstakeflight.htm

Not interested in building an airplane? Come and hear Cresswell speak of his adventures anyway. VENUE Bluejaz Club, Singapore, February. See above link for details.

Companioinship on the Passage

This week another passage. 

Before dawn, I rise from my morning meditation in Singapore, pull on my pants and head into the predawn day. This week’s passage is not trivial, though it is just an overnight passage. It’s a passage across 13,000 kilometers, though it is one as effortless as reading. It’s a passage across the biggest ocean, and across most of a continent, though I will barely be called upon to so much as keep track of where we are until we arrive. It’s a passage half way around the planet in less than 24 hours, and I will barely lift a finger.

This morning I awake in my parent’s home. The furnace rumbling, the house still as the slow December dawn draws up night’s curtain on another day in the magical kingdom. Outside the window in the basement guest room the sky is pink in cold looking clouds. The stillness of the pond could easily be mistaken for ice. I sit this morning looking over the frosted backyard grass wondering why I was so weepy last night, not a quality I often experience in myself.

Am I weepy because I fear losing my parents? My Dad and Mom and I are feeling particularly vulnerable after Dad’s midnight ambulance ride to the hospital last week. Subsequent tests yesterday found nothing untoward, even confirmed his quadruple bypasses of three years all clear to be all clear. I do fear the approaching days when I will lose my parents, but that is not why I am weepy.

Am I weepy because I fear losing my friends? At the other end of this country, on Vancouver Island, friends struggle through the festive season with a course of radiation and chemo therapy to treat a recently discovered brain tumour. Mid way across the country, in Winnipeg, a family member battles lung cancer, with the same treatment. Home in Singapore, still another friend grapples with cancer, cancer of the liver. And so on. It seems this month, unhappily, too many of those whom I value are under threat. Am I weepy because I fear for my friends? No, I am weepy because, in the warmth of my parents’ home, I am to let down my guard and allow my feelings of overwhelm to rise, my feelings of sadness because I have been too far away from too many whom I love for too long.

This morning I remember that to be in the presence of those we love, is to be back in the presence of life. And to have death threatening at the back door makes sure I pay attention. To remember that we are never out of life or death’s reach, or love, it’s just that we are able to forget for a while when we fill up our lives with the stuff of striving. True, to live we must scratch together what we need in the scramble, but it is too easy to mistake the stuff we seek with what is important – connection, friendship, family – the many faces of love and life. Threat of death, is like a slap to the side of the head. Wake Up! Pay attention! Be in love! And I know Irena, on the other side of the planet, is receiving the same reminders as I.

The Seagull Has Landed (or rather seagulls)

Unbelievably, incredibly, magnificently, we are returning to Singapore! Yes, after 18 months of sailing 12,000 miles we are going to be right back where we started!
But the world is round. We all end up back where we started anyway, don’t we? And somehow, this time, we have found our way back to Singapore without sailing all the way back (which is a good thing). Our boat is safe and sound in Marmaris, Turkey at a marina for the winter and we will be flying to Singapore tomorrow.

Irena, as usual, led the way. She is going back to work in Singapore for Orion Health (this company acquired the HIS product that Irena worked with previously). Although Singapore will be her base, her job will involve a lot of travel throughout Asia, Europe and maybe even the Middle East.

And Cress will step back into his consulting business and get started on that new book! We know it will be a relatively  easy transition back into Singapore, and we are both ready for the excitement and stimulation of our work.

So, as the weather cools here in the Med, we are reflecting on the wonderful summer we had. Irena says it was a split personality summer for her – fabulous cruising with friends, fantastic food, great sights on the one hand. On the other hand, there was living with the uncertainty of where would we end up, when would we find work, would we find work. And Irena was, well, feeling uncertain. Up, down, up, down….sideways….

Cress on the other hand (according to Irena) just kind of cruised through the summer, so to speak, even keel, steady, calm, collected - with a sense of faith things would just work out. At least on the outside.

In fairness, Irena rode the job seeking rollercoaster. She was fielding the job applications, dealing with a couple of rejection letters (something she’s not used to at all!) and beginning to wonder if she was still employable. 

At 56 and 57 could we maybe even be past our prime in some employer’s eyes? Unthinkable! This, perhaps, was the most terrifying prospect for Cress - could it be that are anywhere near an age where the system would bar us simply because of age!

But no, Irena is not past her prime (or too old, which I hasten to add, she never was or will be)! She is in fact stepping into a senior role as Project Director with Orion Health. Well, we all know Irene has always been ‘The Director’ so now its official.

Cress is, mixed about the idea of going back. The good news is he will step back in where he left off, with his executive coaching and corporate training business. Plus writing. Boat deliveries. Skippering. The usual mix of suspects. And I am certain he is going to dream up a few new things as well!

So here we go- back to the heat, back to clean, green and safe Singapore. 

Ahhh, but Conversations – she will be in beautiful Marmaris, just waiting for us to steal away for a few weeks next summer. To infinity…. And beyond!

Somewhere in the Grecian Quadrant.

Star Date 2012 09 01 

(Somewhere in the Grecian Quadrant.)

“This is your captain speaking. We have totally run out of fresh fruit, vegetables and white wine. We will therefore be making an unscheduled stop somewhere on the planet to take on supplies. As usual, the conditions of the prime directive apply: Do nothing to alarm the natives. When in the supermarket checkout line-up, if they ask you what your are doing, just tell them you are a “Fresh Air Inspector”. And, be sure to put on some clothes before you go ashore so that they will not be frightened.  That is all.”

As we slip into the 80th day cruising in the Mediterranean, time and distance have lost meaning. We are long past the time when we can remember where we were a week ago.



We are drifting through time on waters clear and warm, the days hot, the nights cool. Every day is a perfect sunny day. Everywhere we go is a perfect place. Everyone is friendly, everyone is on holiday. Like e=mc². Nothing is real. It feels like it will go on forever.

Well, probably not forever. But for a while longer.

Our friends - Tracy and Warren and son Stewart, joined us for a two week sail  through Sardinia and Sicily. 

Then Paul, Darlene, Jordon and Megan Clarke took over keeping us company for the trip to Greece and a sail around the Ionian Group.

Of course, nothing goes on forever. Nothing and nowhere is perfect. 

As we are adrift through a summer cruising season in the Mediterranean, we are adrift as to our futures. 

Work has not found us yet, as much as we (Irena in particular) are sending out smoke signals. 

And we are making a good dent in the cruising kitty. But with nothing much else to do, we continue exploring the planet while our freedom and the weather lasts. And so, there you have it: Perfect cruising, perfect uncertainty.

Somehow, we are coping. 

(It helps that it comes in a nifty box for a Euro or two)

And, my oh my, but there are a lot of places to see here in the Mediterranean!

Some how, I think we are going to be okay....

As long as we don't take a wrong turn and drift off into space forever....

Cress and Irena

Kinda fun, sailing to Seville. Its 50 miles inland!

Seville lies miles up the wide and gentle Rio Quadalaquivir. We navigated the shallow river mouth and enjoyed sailing when we could, and motoring when the wind died. We took our time, moving up river with the flood, which ran, surprisingly, all the way to Seville. We anchored early evening, just before dark, when the flood turned to ebb, and stayed the night in the delicious peace of the Spanish country side. When we reached Seville, we could have locked into the eastern river branch and entered the downtown harbour. We opted instead to anchor in the free river about four miles from the city centre near a small yacht club. We were glad we did - we enjoyed celebrity status for being one of the rare cruisers to come to town. It was lovely to have goats on one river bank and a small town on the other. We did day excursions by bus into the city centre.

We were interested to learn that at the peak of the Spanish empire, Seville was the only centre in Spain where the King allowed new world goods brought in from the off shore colonies to be traded. This preserved the region and protected the main trading centre from attack by other nations, as they were otherwise wont to do. It would have been a sight watching the square rigged Spanish ships, with no engines, working their way patiently up and down 50 miles of river with the tides!

We hung out about a week in the heat before catching the ebb back out to sea. Very hot in Seville, away from the ocean, we discovered. We scooped a huge sunken tree when we weighed anchor which slowed us down a tad. As on the way up river, we anchored about mid way down river to wait for the next day’s ebb. Again, we had another delicious night in the Spanish country side quiet, though we were hiding below decks from the hungry hordes of mosquitos. Next day we ran down to the sea and made our way down the coast to Caciz then Sancti Petri, where we find ourselves again up a lovely river.

Breaking up is hard to do!!

Well, we ended the love affair with Lagos Marina. After arriving back in Portugal June 2 from our Canadian junket, we trolled around the internet for a week and a bit waiting on potential work prospects, and decided enough was enough. If nobody was going to put us to work, we might as well continue cruising until they do. And so we left the fine little port of Lagos and all the friendly people of Portugal behind and set sail eastward toward the Mediterranean.

But we before we close the Lagos chapter, I want to share some sadness about the place. Lagos, like all of the southern coast of Portugal – you may know it as the Algarve Region – has become another great big-condo-barren. Don’t get me wrong, the dozen or so historical, and I mean HISTORICAL Portuguese towns like Lagos in the region are cobble street, piazza quaint and charming, but they seem from our experience all to be surrounded by 10s of thousands of mostly empty condos. The historical city centres have been very nicely tarted up and ‘touristized’, but the rings of suburban condos surrounding them are, well, disappointing. Irena and walk frequently in these areas, in our losing fight to keep fit, and I can tell you, “we are in no danger of being run over!” We walk down street after street of condos frozen in various stages of completion. From holes in the ground, through hulks of moss covered multi-floor shells to empty finished and landscaped buildings, these neighbourhoods tell the sorry tale of a little bit of real estate folly. The building cranes are long gone. Judging by the age of the overgrown vegetation on the unfinished building sites, I would guess the workers put down their hammers probably sometime 2008, when the subprime recession kicked in. In the buildings that were finished, most of the units have been sold -- and some for a pretty penny in the early days --- but most of them are pretty much empty nevertheless. Purchased by speculators in the boom years, they have been left now ‘unloved’ apparently in a declining market. And like the deserted streets, the never occupied shops on the ground floor and the moulding pools behind rusting fences, these barren neighbourhoods are haunted by their emptiness. The ex-Planner in me sees the car oriented suburban neighbourhoods of condos soulless in the best of circumstance, but to see them all but deserted is a bit unnerving, especially given, that with a little more thought and a little less greed, it could have been better.

And what does this means for the people who live in this part Portugal? They will need to find a new way to make a living. Historically, the people of Lagos, and in neighbouring villages, made their living by fishing and by trade. The slave trade did a roaring business in Lagos for nearly a hundred years. We stood in the main town square in Lagos by the town docks and read about how families of slaves were separated -- husband from wife, children from parents -- and auctioned like animals. Now there is a statue and a fountain at the foot of the steps of the catholic church which otherwise oversees the square. A darker time. Then there was a period of industry in the Algarve, but this moved overseas with globalization. Today, in Lagos we see the remains of industry -- half a dozen stunning brick chimneys -- preserved by some romantic Portuguese, now jealously occupied by the ubiquitous heron. They make great nesting sites! And now that the high end recreational real estate market is in retreat, and tourism begins to wither in the European recession, these people must again find another means of getting on. But knowing what we know now after some time with the resilient Portuguese, I think they will find a way. I spoke with a boater on the docks one day close to where Conversations was moored in Lagos Marina. This fine fellow came to Portugal from Brazil to fund his retirement with real estate investments. Ten years ago, he bought a whole building. Now the unit he and his family occupy is the only unit occupied in a building of 10 units. At least, he says, “It’s a quiet building!”

Reflection:

The wheel of change rumbles ever on. As Europe struggles to heal the Euro, Portugal struggles to find a new basis for an economy, and Lagos seeks to hold its real estate market together. We see transition is everywhere.

You would think transition would be easier when we volunteer for it? To misquote William Shakespeare on greatness: Some are born in transition, some achieve transition, and others have transition thrust upon them. (Twelfth Night). Maybe. Maybe not. I think transition is always hard.

While we wait for work, Irena and I have been girding ourselves by remembering, by virtue of our lifestyle, we have chosen transition. The pressure of transition is one of the costs of the lifestyle we live.

Like the Portuguese, we too will all find a way. 

Can’t wait to tell you about Seville in our next Blog!

Irena and I are just back aboard yesterday from a jet powered tour home. In a month, we whistled through Ontario, Manitoba and BC, stopping in Toronto, Orillia, Milton, Simcoe, Winnipeg, Brandon, Vancouver, Whistler, and Nanaimo and back to the boat in Lagos via Lisbon. We spent time with Jenn, Matt, Anglin and Juna, Don/Dad and Nancy/Mom, Cresswell Adam, John, Pat & family, Kristina, Colin, Kaylee and Chloe, Mrs. C/Mom, Wanda, Scott and Pauline, Erin, Larry and Linda, Bob and Jan, Al and Leona, Breanna and Jahn, Dennis and Rita, Mahen, Maureen, Harlene and Ross, David and Sandey, Sue and Aubrey, Bob, Paul and Darlene, Jordon and Megan and Doug. And still others, too numerous to mention and many others we did not get a chance to see. Perhaps this is why at 2am I am up at the nav station here with you, unable to sleep, while Conversations tugs at her moorings in the warm breeze blowing through the marina tonight. My heart is over flowing from connecting with so much friendship and love. To all of you, thank you for being our friends even though it may seem we desert you for our selfish journeys. We love you and you never really are very far away!

So now, back on board, Irena and I are posed to jump, but we know not where! I feel wound up like a spring, teetering on a precipice, waiting for the universe to say where  to leap next. After a year of sailing, we have eaten up our cruising budget and are now chomping down on our savings with alarming appetites. We are ready to work, indeed, must work, and it seems we must ……….wait.

But hold on Cresswell. Is this journey to work, not just another passage? Have we not set our course for the Middle East? Are we not sailing every day in that direction in our search for work (even though we seem to go no further than the internet café)? Are we not provisioned with savings for this passage, sailing a prepared ship? And even though nothing shows yet on the horizon, are we not never-the-less making progress toward our destination even though progress on this sea is invisible? Do we not yet know in our hearts, that like all our ocean passages so far, we will almost certainly make landfall!!? Some where!

We make it hard when we quake. So we have pulled out all our tools. We meditate, we exercise, we tap (EFT), meditate some more, between the hours on the internet. We remember all those we love and we hold the vision!  

Do the work.

Get the job done.

The Middle East? Ha! 

Here we come.

A bit late, but better late than never...

We composed this and thought we sent a few days ago - but now are posting it from Lagos in the south of Portugal having arrived here safely late Monday night April 23rd. All is well here.....

Irena and Cress

Amazing. The Straits of Gibraltar and the continent of Europe lay less than a day away. Since leaving Cape Town February 24th, we have been continuously at sea, except for four days in Saint Helena and six days in the Azores.  Over two months, we have sailed over 6000 Nautical Miles (10,000 kilometers)in 48 days at sea, to bring us to what we think of as our final passage in this phase of our trip around the world.  This last passage of only 1000 miles from the Azores to Portugal, will end in about 24 hours at a smallish town, Lagos, on the south coast of Portugal.  I get to fly back to South Africa to facilitate a coaching workshop in Johannesburg, then Irena and I will leave the boat and fly home to Canada in May for a much overdue visit with our loved ones. When we return to the boat on June 1st, if the facilities check out in Lagos, we will lay the boat up on land for at least a year and go to work. We don't have work yet, don't know exactly where we will find work, but we do know for a bunch of reasons, we need and indeed want to work for the next 'while'.

Reflection:
"...is it possible that the one thing we are looking for - STABILITY - is the thing that could lead to unhappiness??"
This is such a great question to arrive as we arrive in Europe.  It came by email from one of our family members, who, like us, are in transition! And is not transition the opposite of stability?

But who is not in transition? Most of our family is in transition. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I see a good argument that all of us are in transition, one way or another, most of the time.

Sometimes transitions are thrust upon us(good and bad), and sometimes we seek out transitions in the course of seeking out our heart's desire.  I realize so many of our transitions have been from seeking out our heart's desire. We are arriving in Portugal 7 years to the week since leaving Vancouver in our first boat on May 1st, 2005. We left Vancouver to pursuit our hearts desire of sailing to Australia. We bought the boat, transitioned out of jobs and our then 'life' and set sail. In Australia, when work prospects did not work out the way we hoped there, we pursued a desire to work in Asia. And so we did, in Singapore for 5 years. Our heart's desire there was to save money, buy a faster boat with room for family and friends, a boat to continue, we decided then, to sail around the world. And so we went to work; the boat we are arriving in Portugal with is the boat we bought in California and restored in Thailand. Next it was sailing to South Africa. Our heart's desire was then to settle for a while in South Africa as we did in Singapore and work, but when we arrived there, we decided against it, as much as we loved South Africa. So we set off in pursuit of an alternative; to sail the boat to Europe and the Mediterranean and to work in the Middle East. And so it will go I am sure. We don't get everything we want, but the art of it seems to be trying to get what we want, then doing our best to love what we get.

So if we are lucky, as we have been, we get to transition to seek our hearts desire. And this, it seems to me is a big part of happiness. I think happiness comes when we are 'actively engaged in the process of pursuing' our heart's desire. I don't think it even matters much if we succeed in the object of our desire all the time, but I think our happiness does depend on us being on passage in pursuit of our dreams. We need to be at sea in the adventure, figuratively speaking, not standing on the shore, if we are to be happy. And, if at first we don't know what our dreams are, to be happy we need to on passage - almost any passage --  trying to find out what our dreams are by experimenting, exploring, testing and failing sometimes.  It doesn't matter much what Course we set in pursuit our life's desire, it matters most that we pick one and set sail!

But what if transition is thrust upon us? What if someone gets sick, dies, we lose our jobs, whatever. Well, because such transitions are thrust upon us, they are perhaps even more uncomfortable, but what is there to do but make the best of it? After some pain and adjustment, we shift our expectations - our hearts desire -- to what is doable, and head off again in search of a new heart's desire.

But after 48 days at sea in the last two months I can say with confidence the process of being on passage is inherently UN-STABLE. And instability is uncomfortable.  And as human beings we don't like being uncomfortable, because its, well.... uncomfortable! Yet if we sought the stability to avoid our discomfort, --stood on shore  -- would we be happy? I think not for long. I think our society over rates stability. Advertisers pander to it, we are easily seduced by its false promises of happiness. While some moments of stability are necessary - we need to step ashore from time to time to catch our breath, re-cover, and re-provision -- happiness is elsewhere!

This means, I think, regardless of whether transitions are chosen or thrust upon us, we might as well go willingly -- be willing to suffer instability and it's discomfort, in order to have a chance at being happily engaged in seeking our heart's desire. Happiness, it seems, happens along the way - on passage.

It is perverse and cruel: Most of the time it seems, to be happy, we must be willing to leave stability and comfort behind. At least that is how it seems to go in our experience.

Cress and Irena

It is perhaps too perfect a morning.

Horta, Island of Faial, Azores

Behind, to the west, sets a jolly fat moon, in her great orange jacket, shouting to us "Good day, good day" after her brilliant company all the night long. Before us, the days sun rays streak yellow from behind the earth's rim, promising a new glorious day by setting the clouds ringing the horizon red with fire. And overhead, the main, staysail and genoa, pull in silent earnest to Horta, now only 20miles away below the horizon to the N.
Irena steps to the companion way, hands me a Café latte, heated to just the right temperature, and gives me a kiss, " I am off to sleep for a few hours, have a great watch babe". She steps back down the companionway and into the cabin's shadows, leaving me alone to wake with my coffee and contemplate our passage. I am very groggy this morning and more than happy to luxuriate in the freedom to simply sit and await my coffee's to bring sensibility and excitement to the day. I see the setting moon and rising sun and wonder is "Is this perhaps too perfect a morning?" But what could that mean? How could any morning at sea be too perfect?
Mornings can certainly be less than perfect! Stuck in traffic. And yes at sea too. We have had less than perfect mornings, like the last few mornings, after a night of howling winds, hissing seas and a boat bouncing wildly underfoot like a bucking horse, trying to pitch us across the cabin or out of our berths. "It's the sound of the wind in the rigging that is the most draining" I once read, about a storm at sea in a small boat, and found it to be true.
But not this morning. Harbour is just a few hours away and it's a perfect day coming on after a pretty tough upwind sail of the last 18 days. Sailing the whole span of the NE trades from just north of the equator to 32 degrees north latitude was a lot of work, but nowhere near the work of the last four days, trying to sail the last 300 miles to the Azores against a stubborn Low holding a wall of N winds in our face at 25 to 35 knots. We spent about a ¼ of our time hove to, waiting for the wind to ease just enough to allow us to resume sail and bash away, chiselling out the windward distance, one bumpy mile at a time. But that is behind us for now, for this morning, it's a perfect morning. Think I'll go make myself another cup of coffee and watch for the Azores to show up in the dawn light.
Post Note;
We did arrive in the Azores after a pretty good 28 day passage all the way from Saint Helena. We see that none of blogs from at sea have made it online for reasons we cannot determine. Rats!
We have spent the last 6 days drying out and sleeping the sleep of the weary traveller. After a day of touring the island yesterday in a rental car, we are provisioned and watered and ready for sea again tomorrow morning. We are headed for Lagos, Portugal, a mere 1000 miles away.